


Iridescent

by Fangirltothefullest, teacupfulofbrains



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders Shorts, tsshorts - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Changeling Logic | Logan Sanders, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Fae Morality | Patton Sanders, Hunter Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Polyamorous Relationships, The Hunt, silver tongue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-25 22:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18172169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirltothefullest/pseuds/Fangirltothefullest, https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupfulofbrains/pseuds/teacupfulofbrains
Summary: When Patton was a child he was lost in the woods and claimed by the fae. Raised by the Unseelie Court King of the forest near the city in which he now dwells, returning to the place where he was raised for a camping trip with the three loves of his life brings out the untamed wildness in his heart he can barely contain. He didn't anticipate seeing his King again but the encounter changes all of their lives in a single night.





	Iridescent

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This story includes talk of possessive behaviours on the parts of the fae though most of it is not intended to come across as abusive. Also there are some mentions of anti-lgbtqia+ notions towards Emile at some point later in the future but they handle it. Virgil's parents are fae hunters and that will cause conflicts later on. Vesper is a Grade A jerk and does some pretty awful things including using the Silver Tongue, which is a way to hypnotize humans. There will be mentions of worries that Autistic behaviour is due to being fae but it is quickly shut down as nonsense.
> 
> Please understand going in that the Fae of all kinds are more wild and unpredictable than humans, that they have different morals and behaviours that sometimes clash with human morals and that they are generally impish and mischievous.

Patton can _feel_ his wings straining against his back.

They’ve been driving towards the forest for what feels like _years_ , even though realistically he knows that’s not right. He loses track of time easily - that’s the side effect of being nigh immortal, it seems; mortal time loses all effect. He fidgets in the passenger seat, and Logan reaches over from the steering wheel and squeezes his hand, misconceiving why he’s squirming. Their other boyfriends are snoring in the backseat - Virgil soft and adorably, Roman loud and obnoxiously.

Patton wants to take comfort in the familiarity of the scene. They have traveled on vacation before, for various different things and road trips, but this is the first time Patton can actively remember that the trip is taking them directly to the place he’s always longing to return to. He can feel the ache in his bones, the call of the forest he usually easily drowns out when smack-dab in the heart of the city.

But he is ancient and ethereal, and his bones ache from the pull of such a primordial desire. He cannot escape it, even though he thought briefly that it didn’t matter. The closer they come to their destination, the more insistent the ache becomes, begging for him to be what he once was, what he _should_ be.

They pull up to the side of the road and Logan calls out, “The campground should be nearby, if the GPS is correct.”

It takes all of Patton’s very limited self-control not to YEET himself out of the car, tear his clothing clean off, and faceplant into the nearest patch of soft earth. The rough fabric of his clothes sends itchy fires dancing across his skin. Logan’s good about researching one-hundred-percent cotton fibers that won’t irritate his “sensitive skin”, but the fae in him still screams to tear off these wretched mortal contraptions, to be free and open.

Roman jolts awake with a start, and Virgil grumbles, snuffling sleepily as he nuzzles into Roman’s shoulder. “Roroooooo, wan’ sleep more,” he groans. “Stop mov’n.”  
  
“We’re HERE!” Roman sings, causing Virgil and Logan to startle violently.  
  
“SIR!” Virgil shrieks. “CAN YOU MAYBE NOT?” Patton, too, winces, his sensitive ears ringing, but he’s heard louder. Hell, he _is_ louder if he goes full fae.

He tries not to think about that, though. The very concept is terrifying, and he hopes that he never has to see himself lose control like that again, even if his bones and skin and very soul scream with the desperation to do just that.

The clean smell of fresh oak is something Patton can never forget. It is burned into his brain like a memory implanted specifically to make him feel at ease. Oak trees are by far the best, and they (along with ash trees) are the trees closest to where his Kin reside.

They pass many oak trees as ancient as the land itself; towering giants looming above them. Virgil looks up at them and shudders. “We could have picked any other place, Lolo, why did you choose a spooky-ass forest with spooky-ass trees?” Patton tries not to be offended on the trees’ behalf, although he can feel them leaning towards him a little.

“Because, Virgil,” Logan replies with a hint of irritation lacing his words, “this is the closest campground to where we live, and incidentally the easiest to get to on our limited gas funds.”

Roman tilts his head up as they walk, glancing at the treeline and marveling at the colours. “We should have come here in the autumn, can you imagine how delightfully beautiful all these trees would have been?”

“Also _much_ , much creepier.” Virgil eyes Patton and watches him carefully from behind. Logan is leading the way, map in his hand, heavy and over-prepared bags are slung across his shoulder, and Patton follows him with silent, careful steps.

Virgil _knows_.

Unlike the others, he understands what Patton is. He knows why Patton walks the way he does, talks the way he is and why he was so insistent upon knowing the entirety of their full names.

Virgil has never seen Patton at his most inhuman - and as far as he is aware, _no one_ has. But Virgil has seen the way Patton’s pupils slip into slits when he’s annoyed. Virgil has seen the way Patton’s irises bleed into his sclera when he gets distracted and all too keenly interested. Virgil has seen the slight sharpening of Patton’s teeth; the way his ears and fingers elongate JUST a tad; the way all the plants in their school greenhouse lean towards him when he walks by; the way he emits the softest of golden lights when he is happy or thinks no one is looking.

Virgil knows that Patton is fae. And fae he may be, but Patton is a far cry from a children’s story fairy with all that sparkle and glitter. Patton is ancient as a sunset; Patton is powerful as the ocean depths. Patton is _terribly_ dangerous, and Virgil knows that, but he can’t help being drawn to him anyway. Maybe he wouldn't have been once upon a time, but it wasn't like he could just leave now.

Patton is kindhearted, but he is not soft, and Virgil both respects and fears that about him.

People at their school like to bully Patton sometimes, because they say he is “ _too weak to fight back”_. But that is in no way the truth and Virgil knows this. Patton lets it roll off his shoulders, but Virgil catches the angry glint in his eyes and knows that Patton is holding back the wrath of a thousand suns to maintain his delicate mortal facade. He knows it is Patton who was responsible for Freddy Campbell's car accident, and he knows it is Patton who suggested Winnie and Sarah’s cliff dive on the school field trip which caused their broken arms.

People thinks he lets it roll off his shoulders, but that's an overstatement.

He never forgave, nor would he forget, he was just really.....  _opportunistic_.

He is not going to let his anger get the best of him when people are watching, and Virgil is highly impressed with the amount of self control Patton has. He’s watched him throw a mild tantrum and accidentally spoil all the milk in the house. He can only imagine what it would be like to see Patton really give into his impulsive, anger-fueled urges.

Virgil watches him from behind, but it’s Roman who looks down and notices: Patton is barefoot. He walks with light, silent steps and had kicked off his shoes ages ago, but where? When? How far back? Logan doesn’t seem to notice, face buried in his map as he looks up, squints, and points to a clearing that would be just perfect to set up in. “We should camp here. It’s pretty far in, but not _too_ far from the road if we need to go back early for whatever reason.”

Roman, however, is still gawking at Patton’s feet.

“Pat-a-doodle, what happened to your shoes?” He asks bluntly and Virgil looks down. Somehow each step Patton takes leads him over the forest floor with ease, not seemingly hurt by fallen debris and silent as a shadow. Patton turns just a little and glances back at Roman with eyes that are just too big and old.

“Kicked ‘em off.” He replies smoothly and grins. Virgil shivers at how easily that grin curls around his teeth and slides across his face as if carved. It’s genuine of course; Patton is gentle and sweet, but he’s also ancient and a little scary, and it really shows when he’s out here. “Wanted to feel the moss between my toes~!”

“That is a little unsanitary Patton, please return your feet to your- you know what….” Logan sighs, seeing his feet totally bare as he moves into the clearing. “Forget it, I know you; you won’t even remember where you left them. Alright everyone, come and help me pitch the tent.”

Roman dutifully helps Logan with pitching the tent while Patton wanders over to the edge of the clearing. Virgil, under pretense of “scouting out the woods”, scampers over to where Patton is and catches his wrist. Patton turns to look at him, and there’s something.....  _off_ about his eyes.

“Pat, you have to get a grip,” Virgil hisses. Patton blinks owlishly at him, eerie and unsettling.

“A grip on what?”  
  
“Yourself! You’re acting weird, Pat, weirder than usual!”

Patton stretches a hand towards the nearest tree, an oak sapling that comes up to his waist, and it immediately flourishes, leaning towards him as it grows bigger and taller and thicker right before their eyes. He doesn’t say anything, he just stares, bright blue and ancient.

“ _Patton, what the fuck are you doing_?!” Virgil panics and tried not to raise his voice. He quickly laces his fingers with Patton’s and pulls his hand away from the tree, but he winces when he feels Patton’s fingernails scraping against his wrist. They’re usually pretty short and trimmed, but when he looks down at their intertwined hands, he sees that Patton’s nails are longer and sharper, almost clawlike.

“S-sorry, Virge,” Patton whines. “I can’t _help_ it! This is where I grew up, running wild in the forest. I..... th-this.....” He sinks his toes into the warm, mossy earth and wiggles them a little, feeling as his toenails start to sharpen as well. “This is where I _belong_.”  
  
He rolls his head around, and when his eyes slide open and meet Virgil’s again, his eyes are opalescent, with rainbows shimmering in the pale blue irises. His pupils contract and open back up, focusing and Virgil tries very hard not to be unnerved by the way they slit a little. “Ok, just-” He looks at Patton seriously and touches his shoulder. "The other two don’t know what you are, Pat. They want us to have fun camping like good boyfriends. Please don’t let them see you like this just yet, they might be confused or afraid and they might do something we’ll all regret. We… we should ease them into it…. Ok? Slowly, a-and not all at once.”

Patton’s smile seems to thin a little at the edges, but he nods. He can feel his body itching to change, to become what it’s meant to be and to show his True Form. But Virgil has a point. Logan and Roman don’t know what he is and even Patton, for all his natural optimism, is a little nervous. Roman and Logan might not like him if they knew.

He can hear Roman struggling with the tent and Virgil looks over. “I’m gonna go help him. You should help set up too.”

Patton actually laughs. “Oh Virg, you know I’ll sleep outsi-”

“WE won’t.” Virgil interrupts and moves past him. “And you know we want to cuddle.” Incentive he knows Patton wants to give in to. He gives him a gentle smile and goes to Roman, smirking as he makes a snide comment only the other can hear. Patton’s ears are assaulted with insulted princely noises and he chuckles.

Patton watches them a while and stares. Logan is dutifully explaining how each piece of the tent needs to go up and Roman is butchering it, saying it’s a design choice every time something falls down and Virgil laughs and helps him fix it. Patton loves them more than anyone in the entire world..... But he can’t help turning his head to the rest of the wood where the trees beckon and call him.

There is a deeply rooted ache settling in his bones and he tugs at his clothes. He wants to go, he wants to run...... he wants to be himself.

But he sighs and forces his claws back, forces his eyes back and feels his body protest. Human is not what Patton is but he will be human for them until they are ready to accept him. He has to..... he loves them, and he doesn’t want them to abandon him. Maybe it’s petty, but he can’t handle the thought of them leaving him. He can’t help that he’s selfish - perhaps it’s part of his heritage, but they are his and he won’t let them go. He could make them but it wouldn't be the same and he knows it's their genuine affection he wants, not something forced and _fake._

He lets the moss graze his skin as he kneels and helps them set up the campfire. “Hello Patton,” Logan says, placing a firm hand on his back as he works to coax the flames up. “It has come to my attention that you did not pack much in the way of clothes. Will you be alright? I understand that the forest is not terribly cold, but it will be nippy in the mornings and I do not wish for you to lament the lack of proper warmth such a flimsy tent provides.”

Patton leans into his touch, and his wings ache from where they are longing to manifest. “I’ll be alright Lolo!” he says cheerfully. He can’t help but like the way Logan’s eyes dart to his mouth when they see how unnaturally sharp his teeth are. He doesn’t make mention of it, though, and they both stand once the flames are going as evening sets in around them.

Virgil looks up, and the stars shine in Patton’s eyes. They’re wilder than he remembers them being, something ethereal and dark and altogether inhuman. Roman and Logan turn around, not paying attention, and Patton seizes the opportunity to _shove his entire hand into the campfire_.

“ _Patton, what are you doing?!_ ” Virgil whisper-shrieks.

Patton's hand sits in the fire and he giggles, the sound like chimes or glass breaking, a strange combination that sends chills up all of their spines. He pulls his hand back and his skin almost shimmers, freckles sparkling like glitter. He looks at his hand and laughs again. “You should see your faces.”

Logan is up immediately and kneeling before Patton as he carefully cradles his hand in his own. There's a certain sparkle of glee that flickers in Patton's eyes that does not go unnoticed by Virgil as Logan kneels and carefully looks him over.

‘ _Bow to your king...._ ’ is Virgil's first thought. Logan carefully checks his hand for burns or scarring and yet he sees no blisters or harm at all.  

“Patton, that was extremely dangerous! Why did you do that?!” Logan scolds.

“Because I love to see you fuss over me.” Patton muses. “You look.....” His eyes flicker again and his hand slides easily into Logan's soft hair. “..... _beautiful_ when you're worried about me.” A sudden noise gets his attention and he looks to the trees, where his gaze lingers a while.

He wants to go..... he _needs_ to go. His skin is itching and his back feels tight, constricted.

“Patton?” He snaps his head back around to look at Logan, who looks at him a little funny. “You must not have had your hand in long enough to sustain serious damage. But please refrain from doing that again.” He kisses his knuckles and moves to sit back at his seat.

They talk for what feels like forever, and Roman regales them with stories of dragons and princes. It's delightful for Patton to watch him as the darkness starts to settle over the forest. The light dims, and the campfire casts flickering shadows over Roman's beautiful tanned skin. It draws light into his fluffy hair and accents the red highlights in yellow and gold.

Virgil and Logan sit on either side of Patton as they watch Roman tell his tale.

Patton is very, very old and it occurs to Virgil that Patton likes Roman for his passion and storytelling. “Bard.....” Virgil breathes with realization and he watches with a sideways glance when Patton's lips curl into an almost sneer at hearing that. They say the Ancient Ones of legend liked bards for their silver tongues and music. Roman seems a perfect example of this.

“Roman~” The lilt in Patton's voice is pretty, but Virgil can hear the razor-sharp edge hidden beneath that honey-sweet tone. “Could you tell us a lovely tale of the fae~? The Old Ones~?”

“Forest dwellers and charmers!” Roman praises, never knowing that his praise is like honey to the ears of he who had requested it. “They inhabit forests and valleys and delight in tricking humans. But they are very noble and old courts, and they say if you gain favour with a fae you'll delight in good luck and have a prosperous life.”

Patton listens intently, and when Roman says something, Virgil would either see him smile (a truth) or smirk (a lie). It was beautiful and terrifying and Virgil is just itching to tell them. How bad would it be to just reveal Patton's heritage to them? Logan would be fascinated and Roman in awe. Why should they hide it?

He mulls over these thoughts even as they eat. Logan somehow knows how to roast weenies incredibly well, until the outside is nice and crisp and the inside is hot and delightful. Patton, however, turns every scrap of food down. He refuses to eat, smiling gently but firmly as he once more shakes his head to the offered food.

“Pat you have to eat _something_.” Roman chuckles. “We didn't come all the way out here to have you flat out deny everything we give you.”

“Quite.” Logan adds as he turns a weenie. He lifts it to his face to blow on it delicately before handing it off to Roman. “You should have informed us if you had changed your dietary needs. You knew of our intentions to be out here all weekend.”

“I'll fish,” Patton replies smoothly, “or catch my own food. It's more fun that way, you know?”

“Patton.....” Virgil cautions. “What are you up to?”

Patton shrugs and stands after a few more seconds, stretching his arms over his head and bending back. He cracks his spine with three snaps that would sound deeply troubling coming from anyone but Patton. “I'm just not interested in.....  _these....._  right now.” Virgil winces at the disdain in Patton’s voice. He knows that Patton has a distinctly wilder diet - hell, he knows that Patton is wilder than everyone thinks he is - but he hadn’t realized quite how _strong_ Patton’s fae instincts were, especially out here in his home country.

“Well, they shall be here, should your appetite perchance return this evening.” Logan sees Virgil stifle a yawn behind his hand. He tries his best not to start, but yawns are contagious, and soon everyone except for Patton is yawning hugely.

“Seems like you three should sleep,” Patton muses.

“Probably.” Roman stands, and Patton moves to open his arms and embrace him tightly. He loves the way they each smell. Scent is an important marker for the Fae, one of the ways they lay claim to what is theirs. Patton likes his boyfriends to smell like him, but he also likes their scent to be on him. It’s so different from any scent he would find on another Fae, so fresh and nice and _human_. “You coming too?”

“No.” Patton tilts his head a little and touches Roman's cheek fondly. “I think I'm going to go for a little run in the forest~” As he speaks, his hand gently caresses Roman's cheek. The gentle motion seems to lull Roman for a moment, his limbs feeling weak as he slumps a little more into his grip. He's happy and contented with this, nuzzling into Patton’s hand lightly.

“M'kay. Just don't get lost.” Roman turns his head to plant a loving kiss to Patton's palm, holding it with something close to reverence as he sleepily looks deep into Patton’s eyes. “And come back soon.” Patton smiles as he watches him and leans forward to give him a slow, pleasantly deep kiss, until Roman is breathless and almost dizzy from passion.

“Course, Roman, you know me. I wouldn't leave you wanting, love~” He knows the forest is making him different, making him wilder, more possessive, more _Fae_. It's stirring instincts he can so much more easily conceal and dampen when he is in the confines of the concrete forests, with their skyscrapers made of metals that weaken him and salts that fill the air and clog the sky with smog.

But out here it's clean and pure and fresh. His entire body is taut, like a bowstring, and he can feel the fire and lightning racing through him, calling him to obey the instinctual commands of centuries worth of fae blood singing in his veins. His very soul cries out to be back to where it's meant to be, and after spending so long confined in the human world (even if he chose to be), he’s not about to deny his instincts any more. So what if Roman's head gets a little foggy from his honeyed touch and silky words? So what if he delights in seeing the other's submissive affections and adoration?

“Alright, if you promise, love.” Roman is cute when he shuts up and looks at him like this, looks at him like he holds the answer to all of life’s problems, looks at him like he is his entire world. Patton may be abnormally, superhumanly strong, but praise and adoration are his kryptonite. He goes weak in the knees when he hears them praise him, and even though he knows it’s probably wrong, he loves when they worry for him.

Virgil feels a large pang of jealousy hit him when Roman seems to get all of Patton’s attention, and his shoulders tense, creeping up towards his ears. He glances, at Logan who seems transfixed with them too, and Virgil's eyes widen. He’s not nearly as well-versed in fae magic as he wants to be, but he knows when Patton’s magic is seeping out. This is far from seeping - if he didn’t know better, he’d say the dam is about to burst.

He can smell the soft, gentle sweetness in the air that accompanies Patton’s magic, and he knows that he has to do something before Patton accidentally irreparably damages Roman’s psyche with it. Virgil stretches and stands and gently touches Roman, whose pupils have blown wide. “Bedtime, Princey,” he says, eyeing Patton with suspicion as he pulls Roman from his grip. Patton's smile is a little too wide for Virgil’s comfort, but he lets Virgil take a sleepy, pliant, slightly fae-drunk Roman into his arms. “And no, Pat, it's late, you need to sleep too. Come into the tent and snuggle.”

And they say humans weren't as tricksy as fae. Patton whines and reluctantly follows. He may have a hard time resisting his instincts out here, but the promise of cuddles and attention and love is something he can never resist. He pulls Virgil against his chest instantly, nuzzling into the softness of his hair and wrapping an arm around Roman, who’s gone completely limp and boneless from the effects of Patton’s magic. Logan curls into his other side, and Patton can’t resist leaning down and kissing the long, pale column of his neck. He’s possessive by nature, and since he knows their full names, they are his now. He happily bites down on Logan’s collarbone and begins to suck a kiss mark into his skin. It looks like a normal kiss mark to a human, but Patton knows what it really is - a mark of possession.

Logan squeaks when he feels Patton’s just-slightly-sharper-than-normal teeth graze his skin. “P-Pat!” he whispers, but Patton just kisses a little harder, and that sickly-sweet honey scent fills the air and Logan is suddenly relaxing and moaning just a little as Patton kisses his neck. Once he’s satisfied with how marked up Logan’s neck is, he turns to Roman, who’s already fallen asleep.

Patton makes a displeased noise. He prefers his boyfriends awake when he marks them like this, likes to hear their pretty noises and watch their faces go slack with pleasure. “I’m still awake,” Virgil sighs, shifting his hoodie to bare his neck. Patton looks at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “Go ahead. I know you want to.”

“ _Of course my love~”_ Happily, Patton begins to kiss Virgil’s neck, and Virgil can’t help sighing and giving in to the warm, pleasant foggy-headedness that Patton’s magic provides. Giving into his Silver Tongue is something Virgil will only ever do for Patton. He has every right to deny him that control, as he knows it exists and is immune unless he wants to let go willingly. It is partly his way of telling Patton that he trusts him.

Virgil's parents would kill him if they knew he was in love with a Fae and they would dance on his grave and strike his name from their family tree if they found out he's given his true name to one.

He feels light and airy, happy and pleased. He’s all but drunk on the pleasantness as he leans into Patton's kisses like they're the best thing in the world. “Mmm~” he mumbles. Patton chuckles lightly and gives two more deliberate gentle pecks to each eye, letting Virgil drift off.

“ _Mine~_ ” He looks them all over and smiles at his handiwork. He loves making them his, marking them as his possessions and showing the world that he's chosen them.

He doesn’t sleep as he sends his hands through their hair. But he hears the wind rustle the leaves outside, and it’s calling him. Regrettably, he pulls away from his boyfriends, taking a moment to mark Roman’s neck. He might wish Roman was awake for this, but he won’t risk something trying to take what’s his.

Patton makes sure that his boyfriends are tucked into a nice warm nest of blankets, cuddling into each other adorably in their sleep, before slipping out of the tent. The moon is just shy of full, and Patton can feel the pull in his soul as he looks up at the sky. His wings strain painfully against his back, and after casting a glance back at the tent, Patton takes a deep breath and releases the pent-up tension in his body.

His shirt falls to the ground as his wings burst out from his back. They’re large and shimmery, slightly ragged at the edges, vaguely reminiscent of a butterfly’s wings. They appear soap-bubble delicate - but looks can be deceiving. Patton lets his irises bleed into his sclera, lets his teeth point into fangs and his ears elongate ever so slightly and his nails sharpen into claws.

He feels  _real_ again - he feels _alive_. He shakes himself lightly and fans his wings, letting the familiarity of the breeze tickle his skin. He is a fae, and he is proud of it. He feels the wind cooing childishly at him, tempting him, and he doesn’t hesitate to listen to it as he bolts eagerly into the forest.

Moss between his toes disappears as he lifts, flying swiftly and freely into the trees. He’s not sure how he loses the rest of his clothing, but when he lands on a thick oak bough to take his bearings, he’s completely nude. It’s cold in the forest, but Patton doesn’t feel it. Fae are woodland creatures, creatures of the elements. This is his natural habitat.

A shadow of movement catches his eye. It’s too fast and agile to be a woodland creature - another fae? Patton sniffs the air, catching the distinctive scent of an Unseelie, and growls. If that fae gets anywhere close to his boyfriends, he could try to cajole them into his good graces. And those are _his_ boyfriends. He refuses to give them up for anything.

The Unseelie darts between the trees, taunting him, and Patton launches himself through the forest with a snarl.

 

* * *

 

 

Virgil yawns, unsure why he’s awake right now. There’s no sunlight streaming through their thin canvas tent, so it can’t be morning - Patton had promised to keep all the clouds away this weekend to ensure a good camping trip. He stretches, blinking to try and clear the bleary sleepiness from his eyes.

He can feel a head leaning on his shoulder, and he turns to see Logan, neck covered in marks from Patton, sound asleep, snoring gently. Roman is cuddled up to his other side, also kiss-bruised, also snoring. He looks around for Patton, but can’t find him.

Oh, _fuck_.

Virgil sits up rapidly, dislodging Logan and Roman. Roman keeps snoring, but Logan wakes up with a disgruntled noise. “Wha - Virgil? What are you -”

Virgil doesn’t reply. He’s too busy rummaging around in his backpack for the bracelets that he bought. They’re wrapped in a thick woolen sweater at the bottom of his bag to ensure that Patton didn’t touch them accidentally - two thick, wide wrist cuff bracelets made of pure, solid iron.

He tests their weight in his his hands and tries to steady his breathing as he slips them on over his wrists. He shivers as he feels the soft bruise mark Patton gave him sting a little from the iron, the residual magic reacting to it. “I'll be back.” He says as he stands and moves to the tent entrance.

A strong hand catches his arm and Logan blinks the sleep from his eyes as he holds tightly to Virgil.  “I will not let you go alone into the forest. Wherever Patton has gone was foolish to go alone. We're coming with you Virgil.” The way he looks at Virgil sends a shiver down Virgil’s spine and he pulls his arm away, nodding as Roman groans behind them.

“Why are you two making such a ruckous? Go back t’sleep.....” He grumbles and curls into the blanket. But he seems to notice the general lack of people sleeping beside him and the warmth they inevitably provide and he grunts and scrambles to grab at the bed before sitting up. “Why are all of you leaving me?” He pouts.

“Childish as ever.” Virgil chuckles. “We need to find Patton. Stay here and guard the tent.”

“If you think for one moment I am going to stay and not help you retrieve one of the loves of my life then you are sorely mistaken!” Roman huffs and quickly pulls on his jacket and shoes. “We are in this together and you know it!” It isn’t like they can force him to stay so Logan starts packing everything up. If they can’t bring Patton to the camp then they’ll bring the camp to Patton so they won’t lose their stuff.

The woods are so much darker than Virgil anticipated they'd be. He hears noises with every step but the forest itself seems to be far too still and unnerving. Roman doesn’t seem to care as he trails ahead and calls out to Patton loudly, but the shivers which run down Virgil’s spine seem to grow worse by the second. Maybe if he knew what Patton was Roman would be more cautious but Virgil knows that isn’t the case. If Roman knew of faeries he would immediately be a thousand times more interested and probably be in even more danger than they likely already are.

The longer they trek through the forest with no encounters with any sort of wildlife, the more Virgil’s anxiety spikes. Patton is not one to just abandon them, not like this, right? He hadn’t gone totally wild had he? Virgil gulps, dread sinking his gut like the iceberg sank Titanic. He stops walking and curls his hoodie closer to himself. The air is so much colder than it had been five minutes ago and he strains his ears. Faintly he can hear it because he has been trained by his parents and their unyielding bloodline to recognize any presence and sign of the fae.

Soft chiming giggles, and they are NOT Patton’s.

Immediately Virgil’s skin crawls and he grabs hold of Logan’s arm and Roman’s wrist. Roman protests but he growls in response and it shuts Roman up. “Shh! _Listen!_ ” He nervously strains his ear and he can hear soft rustling. “That's gotta be Patton!” the giggling and rustling shifts, changing locations and Virgil bolts after it. “This way, come on! Patton come back!”

They should not have followed the sound of the laughter as it trailed through the forest. All too quickly the three of them were heavily lost beyond the tree walls that made up the forest. The moon barely crested through the trees within the deepest regions of the wood and soon Virgil felt as if eyes watched them from all sides. “We’re getting nowhere with this.....” He says, out of breath.

“We are absolutely lost.” Logan, never one to be out of breath like Roman and Virgil, looks around the wood. “I really do not believe that laughter is from Patton.....”

“Uh… Logan?” The other turns to look at Virgil who frantically looks left and right. “Where the hell did Roman go?!” His heart beats rapidly in his chest as he scans the darkness for any sign of their excitable partner. The darkness is no longer broken by giggles but Virgil can tell the cold in the air is from something entirely malevolent.

A light flicks in his peripherals and he spins around, dragging Logan back behind him. The other winces and hisses lightly at the movement and they both see the source of the light in the distance. They follow quickly, fear coursing through Virgil to his core.

Something is definitely _wrong._

When they reach the clearing, his breath hitches as he sees it and holds Logan back before he can enter. Below his feet glow little mushrooms, surrounding the entirety of the large clearing and he realizes immediately that they have stepped close to a Fae Circle. Not only that. But an impressively large Fae Circle. Only a Fae with exceptional power could have made one this big. “Don’t go any further-” He hisses quietly to Logan, but Logan frowns and points to the source of the light from earlier.

The young man is beautiful and smiling pleasantly with eyes as gold as the sun. Soft dusted scales of gold glitter over his cheeks and under his eyes, curving up and around his face like freckles. His limbs are a bit too long, his fingers extending unnaturally as he cups Roman’s face. The other seems enthralled, leaning in towards the touch of the otherworldly being. _“Such a pretty little prince~”_ He is radiant, beautiful beyond compare and glowing as resplendent as his circle of bioluminescent mushrooms.

Virgil shifts uncomfortably, recognizing the Silver Tongue. “Roman-” He calls. “Get away from there!”

Roman does not respond.


End file.
